nibbled, dribbled,
picked, sticked then licked,
succulent.
over your thin skin
I slide my tongue,
cool, poking.
now in your harvest,
fresh,
you have become
a piece of my spirit
and a line in my belly.
didn't you know.
we are here for each other.
© Ken Baker 2010
All rights Reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Will never eat another apple again without having thoughts of youir poem, most entertaining post indeed, Brendan.